Either I was born with it or something happened in my first six years, because by seven I already had a thing for girls' feet. By ten, it was bad: one day, we had friends over; the girls and the boys were playing separately but once in a while the boys would kidnap a girl and tie her to a chair, playing pirates or whatever, innocently. There I was, tying this pretty girl one year older and much more mature. When I got to her feet, adorned with red nail polish, fascination, lust and worship instantly overwhelmed me. Within a split second I got mortified that my emotions, so powerful, would become uncontrollable if I touched her, revealing my kink. I abruptly rose and turned away, trying to conceal my glowing red face, and curtly muttered to the other boy to finish it, hoping neither had noticed the awkwardness, or at least that they would not understand its cause. At the same time I was already furious for letting pass that incredibly fortunate and rare opportunity. Those toenails are still etched in my memory, delicious torment.
As for the submissiveness, the conflicting feelings when defeated by a pretty girl at a game appeared very early too: both wrath at being humiliated and that strange heat in my heart and abdomen telling me: "more !"